North, South, East, West
by Yoshidas
Summary: An anthology! Set in the Beyblade universe. / Featuring a variety of themes and pairings. / Open to prompts.
1. Lonely

He was lonely.

Most of the time, he was pretty good at hiding it… not that it was difficult. People didn't expect him to be quiet. Reserved. To hurt. He just threw on his trusty smile and revved up his cocky bravado and _voila_! Instant happiness facade. When he was unable to maintain the facade, he threw himself into his favorite sport of all time: Beyblading, like a bull out of the gates. It was his ultimate distraction; something he would forever be thankful for.

Ultimately, people didn't expect him to be quiet. Reserved. To hurt. Oh no, not Tyson. Proud, cocky, confident Tyson. The Bottomless Pit. Three-Time World Champ. What could he possibly have to hurt about? He had it all.

But he did. He did hurt. He was human, wasn't he? Happiness was never absolute, no matter what you had.

He hurt when his friends left him— that is to say, when they returned to their families and friends; to the people who they loved and loved them. Leaving him alone. Sure, Chief was there, just like he'd always been, but it just… wasn't the same. Max, Rei and Kai were like brothers to him— seeing as Hiro wasn't always around— and he was always so thrilled at the prospect of a new tournament: it meant he got to spend a year travelling with them. Bonding. Having the time of his life with other boys his own age.

It hurt to have to let all that, to let them, go.

He understood _why_ they left. He understood that completely, even if his stubborn antics didn't support that. But understanding the why didn't make it any easier. He'd always kind of hoped it would.

The trade-in for Max, Rei and Kai was Daichi: a loudmouthed spitfire who was just as stubborn as he was. And, although he'd never, _ever_ tell the flame-haired younger boy that, he was eternally grateful for his company. At the beginning of their relationship, they did butt heads. Often… in fact, pretty much all the time. But slowly, the two, who were far more alike than either one wanted to ever admit, they'd formed a bond. Something real. Something that fulfilled a void they both kept buried— loneliness.

After that, Hiro returned. Oh, how he was _thrilled_ to see his older brother again. He hadn't seen him in years— he'd started to wonder if he was ever coming back. He felt like a child admitting it, but he'd missed his older brother more than anyone could ever understand. Not as much as he missed his father, however, but that was a whole difference story. Grandpa, although he was ever involved in Tyson's life and still sprightly for his age, was old. He didn't know how much longer he had left, and the last thing Tyson wanted was to say goodbye to the one person who was a constant fixture in his life.

He'd done that once already, with his mother. And he _never_ wanted to go through that pain again.

As for his dad, he hadn't the slightest idea when he'd be coming home again. He was always on some foreign excavation site. Always traversing the world. He sent postcards and other souvenirs from his travels, which were always a nice gesture, but the only thing Tyson wanted was his dad home again.

All these people in his life, and he still managed to find the time to feel alone.

Although…

There was one other constant in his life.

One friend who swore to never leave his side. To always be there to support, to fight alongside him.

Tyson pulled his beyblade out of the pouch on his arm, and stared at the bitchip. It flashed in the dim moonlight filtering through his window, almost knowingly.

_Dragoon_…

His sacred beast. The blue dragon he'd met three years ago, who'd stuck by his side through everything. Through all the psychos bent on world domination, through every thief who'd come to claim Dragoon for themselves, through every championship and every battle, great or small. Ever faithful. Constant.

Tyson smiled, and he could feel the beast stir and croon softly.

Yeah.

Dragoon would always be here.


	2. Party Preparations

"Oh, oh, Maxie, look!"

The blond looked up from the rows of brightly-decorated party hats in front of him and towards his blue-haired best friend.

"What is it, Ty?"

"L_ook_!" Tyson, who was standing in the middle of the aisle and pointing _emphatically _at racks of streamers, stressed. Max followed his friend's pointer finger and… grinned.

"Those are _perfect_!"

There, on the racks, were packages of streamers in pastel pink and lavender, printed with white unicorns. The ones next to them, also in pastel pink, were coated in glitter in different colors.

"We gotta get 'em," Tyson muttered, grabbing three packages of each. The dojo was a big place, after all. And they had to decorate it all.

"He's so totally gonna hate 'em," Tyson continued, snickering. He dropped them in the cart before grabbing a hold of it and dragging it down the aisle. Max followed, still smiling.

"We still need party hats, Ty,"

"Oh right… Okay, how about this: you get the party hats, I get the confetti?"

Max nodded, "Deal."

And off they went, each darting eagerly down different aisles in the party store.  
When they finally met up again, Max had gathered together almost two dozen party hats, all in hot pink and decorated with hearts and one, lone, silver tiara. When the blond presented it to Tyson, he broke down in a fit of laughter for almost three minutes straight.

When he finally recovered, Tyson showed Max the varied packets of confetti he'd gotten: pink, lavender, silver and white, all sparkly. Max smile mischeviously: they may very well be washing glitter out of their hair for weeks later, but it would so totally be worth it.

They took their cart to the cash and paid for all the supplies. Then, it was time to head back. (The trip home took longer than necessary because Tyson wanted to stop for ice cream. Several times.)

"I'm sorry, Maxie, but I'm a growing boy!"

Max rolled his eyes, "You always use that excuse. C'mon, man! Hurry up!" He grabbed the sleeve of Tyson's hoodie and all but dragged him down the street.

Before they even got inside the dojo, they could smell the sweet aroma of cake and other goodies wafting from inside.

Of course, the smell of food was enough to get Tyson to hurry it up. As the boy barrelled through the doors, his excitement besting him, Max smiled. 'G_ood ol' Tyson,_'

"Reeeei! We're baaaack!" Max called as he kicked off his shoes and carried the bags into the kitchen.

"I can see that. Little help?"

The sight that greeted him when he entered the kitchen made Max burst into laughter. Rei was fighting off Tyson, who was looking like he _hadn't _just had like four ice cream cones, with one arm and trying to mix the ingredients for the cake icing with the other.

"Sorry about him," Max said between chuckles, grabbing the back of Tyson's hoodie and dragging him away. Tyson pouted.

"Aw, c'mon, Rei, just lemme lick the spoon,"

Rei sighed, giving in, "Alright, fine. When I'm done, though."  
Tyson grinned appreciatively at him.

"What'd you get, by the way?" Rei asked, gesturing to the bags on the floor. Tyson and Max looked down at them, remembering their existance, before looking back up at their dark-haired friend and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"You'll see," Tyson's grin turned markedly more mischevious. Rei blinked.

"I… alright, you guys, but whatever goes wrong, I'm blaming it on you two,"

Max waved a hand dismissively, "It'll be fineeeee. Right, T?"

"You bet, Maxie!"

Rei smiled, "If you guys say so,"

"Soooo, Rei… when's the cake gonna be done?" Tyson asked, looking up innocently.

Rei gave him a dull stare, "No, you can't have any,"

"C'mon man, you need a taste tester… right?"

"Is it your birthday?"

"P_leeeeeeeeease_?"

"No,"

Max chuckled, watching his friends bicker back and forth. Yup, good ol' Tyson. Nothing ever changed around here.

The usual bickering was interrupted by the sound of the doors sliding open and someone new taking off their shoes.

"Hey, Birthday Boy is back!"

Sure enough, said "birthday boy" walked into the kitchen. He nodded to them in greeting.

"Hey Kai! Happy early birthday!" Max grinned brightly. Kai grunted.

"Hn, thanks, I guess… What's _that_?"

Max, Tyson and Rei all followed Kai's line of sight— the party decorations. Tyson burst out laughing and Max had to fight to contain his giggles. Rei smiled wide.

"Your party decorations! Aren't they _pretty_?" Tyson managed through hiccups and snorts.

Kai made a weird sound in the back of his throat, "You're kidding,"

"Nope! Look, unicorns!"

He didn't even bother to try and hide the look of abject horror on his face when Tyson pulled a package of streamers out of one of the bags and showed it to him. Max's fight to keep his laughter under wraps was lost and he broke down in hysterics. Even Rei joined in on the merriment.

"If you think _those _are bad, just wait until you see your birthday hat!" Tyson continued, grinning and snickering. Kai just looked mortified.

After his laughing fit had finally subsided, Max grinned.

Yup. Nothing ever changed around here.


	3. Hater

"IT'S HEEEEERE!"

Tyson barrelled into the living room, grinning and clutching a magazine in his hands. The glossy cover was emblazoned with the words "_People_" and "_Top 100 Hottest Athletes - pg. 35!"._

Almost too eagerly, Tyson flipped through the magazine until he reached the aforementioned page number. There, just as shiny and glossed as the other pages, was a list of various names of athletes, dotted with various pictures. But anything under number 10 was irrelevant to the boy. His eyes were glued to the very top of the list.

1. Kai Hiwatari  
2. Rei Kon

"God_dammit_!" Tyson cursed, chucking the magazine across the room. Max blinked at him.

"What's wrong, bud?"

"Are you _kidding _me? _again_? This is like… the nine billionth time!"

"The nine billionth time for… what?"

Tyson scowled and pointed dramatically to the offending magazine, which was splayed out in on the arm of the couch where it landed. Max, still thoroughly confused, reached for the magazine. He gazed curiously at the cover before opening it and turning to mentioned page.

"_Top 100 Hottest Athletes, _huh…" Max skimmed the list, "This? This is what's got you so upset?"

Tyson huffed, "Why is it always them? What do they got that I don't got?"

Max offered his friend a crooked grin, "Billions of fangirls?"

"Ha, ha, very funny, Max,"

"What's funny?"

Max and Tyson looked up just as Rei and Kai walked in, one holding a mug of tea and the other cradling a grey tabby cat. Almost instantly, Tyson glared at the two. Kai merely stared, before turning his attention to Max.

"What's his problem?" he grunted, jerked his head towards Tyson. Max's grin resurfaced and he tossed Kai the magazine. The Russian caught it deftly and examined the cover. A wry smirk spread slowly across his face.

"Oh,"

"_Oh_?**_ Oh_**? That's all you have to say?" Tyson asked, incredulous.

"Oh okay?" Kai offered, still smirking. He handed the magazine to Rei next, who skimmed the cover and flipped it open to the page in question. After reading, he offered Tyson a sheepish grin.

"It's not like you're not on the list, dude,"

"I'm like number 50 or something! Even _Max _is higher on the list than I am!"

"Hey! What's _that _supposed to mean?" Max frowned. Tyson held up his hands, palms forward, in defense.

"Sorry, Maxie, I didn't mean it like that… But _still_. I don't get how you two keep ending up top of the list!"

Rei shrugged, sipping his tea. Edgeworth hopped out of Kai's arms in favour of settling into his favorite spot on the back of the couch. Kai dropped onto the couch, next to Rei, still wearing his infamous smirk.

"It's not fair! At least Rei had the decency to look apologetic; Kai doesn't even care about crap like this and he's _still _smirking!" Tyson continued, lamenting.

It was Kai's turn to shrug.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game,"

Tyson blinked at him, wide-eyed, before scowling viciously, again.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!"

* * *

two things:  
i dont know why i named the cat edgeworth i really dont  
and writing kai saying really lame phrases like "dont hate the player, hate the game" is my favorite thing ever


	4. Star-Gazing

Rei pulled the comforter further up, tucking it under his chin. It wasn't the heaviest and he was cold; the night was chillier than he expected. Had he had his way, he'd be curled up in an electric blanket on a fluffy mattress. Car roofs weren't exactly the comfiest things to lay on.

But when Kai shifted closer to him, resting his head on his chest, Rei forgot about the cold.

Maybe it was because Kai was something like a human space heater— he was sure he had Dranzer to thank for that— or maybe it was because cuddling with his boyfriend gave him that cliché warm fuzzy feeling inside.

Cuddling always had that effect on him.

The brunette allowed himself a smile and slowly slid his arm around Kai's shoulders. If he had been looking at this shorter male's face, or been at an angle where he could see it from, he was sure he'd be greeted with bright red cheeks.

That thought only made him smile wider.

"You cold?" he breathed. He'd been hesitant to disturb the quiet of their stargazing, but he'd never been able to resist an opportunity to tease Kai. Ever.

Kai's only response was a grunt— Rei was positive he had to be blushing by now.

"You _suuuuure_?" the brunette continued, his smile turned into a full-blown grin, flashing his sharp, white teeth. Kai shifted this time, before grumbling his answer.

"I can move if I'm bothering you,"

That was enough to wipe the grin off Rei's face. Kai could be such a killjoy.

"No, it's fine. You can stay there, I don't mind,"

Then silence reigned again— comfortable, natural silence. The car roof was still hard and uncomfortable under Rei's back and the night breeze still nipped at the tips of his ears and nose, making them red, but oddly enough he couldn't find it in him to care anymore.

The stars twinkled in the sky, the weight of Kai's head on his chest was familiar and comforting and everything felt right.


	5. Use

vague, v vague lemon-y mentions & a pairing i dont rly ship outside of puttin my fav character thru emotional pain happenin in some weird timeline that i didnt pinpoint

oops

* * *

There's music playing, but neither of them are paying much attention. They're far too many things going on for him to pay whatever was on the radio, such as hands against his skin, leaving trails of fire wherever they went. Lips, soft and full, pressed against his own, against his flesh, every sensitive spot they could find. Slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, pulling at clothes, at the wrap around his hair.

He hisses, and isn't sure if it was pleasure or impatience-born. Maybe both. Maybe neither. She smiles, something awkward and knowing, and he's too far gone to decipher what it means. Traces his collarbone with his tongue, pushes him back onto the bed and it all becomes a blur of red hair, tanned skin and airy moans.

It was a primitive dance, something they'd done before, almost too many times to count.

He tilts his head back. Closes those golden eyes she'd become so accustomed to. Allows himself to be lost in the feeling. She traces his face with feather-light touches, along his defined jawline and over smooth, lush lips. Re-familiarizes herself with the scar above his eye, the one just under his pointed ear. The sensation is vaguely affectionate, but she knows better. For all intents and purposes, he should too, but in the dark of the room, with the soft sound of the radio mixing with their breathless gasps, in this intimacy, he can almost fool himself into believing otherwise.

He shifts underneath her, pressing his heels into the mattress for more leverage and she gasps, sinking her blunt nails into his shoulders. He growls, she kisses him and that illusion of finality is almost within his grasp.

All at once, it's over, red marks left by nails, claws against skin, trails of saliva between two mouths and a thin layer of sweat glistening on them both. She rolls off him, satiated and tired, and sleep tempts her, but she knows better. Within moments, she's standing- albeit a little wobbly- and collecting her clothes, her belongings. Dressed in record time- she'll bathe when she gets back to her apartment.

In the silence of the room, the darkness, she can barely pinpoint his breathing. But when she concentrates just so, she had hear the even, slightly comforting sound, barely laboured despite their activities. She knows all to well he's watching her, gold eyes bright with unanswered questions.

Every bone in her body is grateful for the blackness in the room as she slips out the door without a word.

Saves her the guilt of having to face him, face the questions she knows she should answer.

She owes him that much.


	6. The Green-Eyed Monster

It was always the same song and dance.

He comes back, after extended absences in which no one knows where he's gone or why he left in the first place, and everything suddenly shifts. Everyone fawns over him as if he'd never left, cooing and preening and they cease to exist.

"They".

Really, just him.

The others were just as excited for his return as the rest of the village. Running around like chickens with their heads cut off, chattering about preparations. '_For what?!_' he wanted to scream. He didn't need special treatment; he was the same as them. Always had been, always would be. They could tout him as a "World Champion" as much as they wanted, he'd still be the same shy runt of the litter as he'd always been.

It'd happened too often for him to really be angry any more. Exasperated, maybe? But not angry. At least, that's what he told her if she asked him. Asked him why he was "sulking" and "moody". It was a lie, of course- he was still angry. He'd been angry since the first time it'd happened. She didn't understand why, but to him it was perfectly clear: it was a betrayal of trust. A fundamental trust the two had built since the other had been informally adopted into their family and become his brother. A fundamental trust they'd solidified with a blood pact when they were only eight years old.

A fundamental trust the other had broken.

It made perfect sense to him, but she thought it was something more. Something much more sinister. She referred to it as the "Green Eyed Monster", but that was just vivid imagery. It was jealously, plain and simple. He was affronted by the suggestion and quite snappily told her that she was imagining things. But sometimes, after night had fallen and he had taken a walk to the team's Favourite Spot, he had to question it. Was it jealousy? He didn't think so. For all the other's grating qualities, he was still a brother to him, a vital part of his life and someone he'd come to care for like he was his own flesh and blood.

It couldn't be jealousy. He was sure of it.

But sometimes...

Sometimes he'd have his doubts, after hours of soul-searching in the quiet of the night. Sometimes there was a dull ache at the bottom of his heart when the other was mentioned, when the village people enthused about his exploits, his victories, when the memories of the night the Elders chose him to wield Driger reared their heads again. Sometimes, if he was absolutely honest with himself, he could admit to himself that there was a small element of jealously. A constant ache born from feelings of inadequacy.

And that made him angrier than anything.


	7. Red Solo Cup

Johnny stared down at the clear liquid in his red Solo cup, swilling it around a few times. Even when his arm stopped, the liquid continued to move, vibrating in his cup courtesy of the bassline shaking the mansion. He shrugged and put the glass to his lips, downing the contents in one fell swoop.

No point being sober at a party.

The redhead started to move, lurching through the throes of meshing, sweaty bodies. Where was he going? He really wasn't sure. Maybe to get more alcohol- his cup was empty again. Maybe to hunt down Giancarlo and see if he had any more weed. Wherever it was, it was away from the rather wildly grinding 'Bladers (And he was pretty sure there were a few random groupies Giancarlo had snuck in too) and the house-rattling music.

He stumbled into the kitchen soon enough, greeted by the sight of Olivier and Raul, the latter looking like a frightened puppy. He raised a red, bushy eyebrow.

"What are you to-" but Olivier cut him off.

"Brooklyn felt him up- he's a little unnerved,"

Johnny nodded, though he didn't quite get it. But he didn't _need_ to get it. Where was the alcohol?  
He held up his empty cup and gave it a shake, eyebrow still raised. Olivier got the hint and jerked his chin towards a long, toilet paper-lined, dark corridor leading toward the grand foyer and a very majestic staircase leading upstairs.

He nodded his thanks and lurched towards the foyer, occasionally using the walls to support himself. He wasn't exactly sure what had been in his cup prior to his new hunt for liquor- something he'd bought a few days before on a whim- but it was strong. Stronger than he'd expected. Johnny usually teetered somewhere in between social drinker and functioning alcoholic; it took a lot to knock him on his ass, but whatever was in that bottle was giving him a run for his money.

The foyer scene was something to behold, and Johnny would get right on beholding it- right after he stopped heaving. Something clattered loudly somewhere to the right of him and then there were voices. Very loud, hurried voices.

"Giancarlo, I- no, don't, I'm alright... Mmm, no, I drank all that..."

He braced himself against the railing and raised his head. Blond hair and really obnoxiously-colored clothes. Well, there was Giancarlo. Who was that with him...?

Black hair, long and loosely wrapped, swayed into view. That could only be one person.  
Giancarlo fished around for something in his pockets and, when he found whatever it was, proudly held it up to a very intoxicated looking Rei. Said male blinked a few times before smiling giddily and taking it from him. Johnny's only real guess was it was a joint- knowing Giancarlo it probably was.

Rei grinned to himself and wobbled on his feet a little as he turned the joint over in his hand. Giancarlo watched him, looking no worse for wear, before grabbing the brunet's hand and leading him away from the foyer and back into the heady mosh pit that was the living room. Presumably to danc- wait.

Shit.

"Giancarlo!"

The blond looked up, fingers still clasped around Rei's wrist, "Johnny?"

Johnny raised his cup and gave it a shake, much like he did with Olivier, and Giancarlo's blue eyes widened in understanding. He let go of Rei's wrist- in favour of sliding an arm around the brunet's waist, thought Rei looked too preoccupied with lighting that joint to care- and pointed towards the dining room.

"Extra reserves are in there, bud," he told the redhead jauntily, before disappearing into the fray again.

Another destination for Johnny's Drunken Adventure Through Giancarlo's Mansion.

As he shakily made his way to the dining room, he noticed a few other oddities: Max jovially sliding down various railings, Rick watching him with a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels and a distinctly bored expression on his face, Julia and MingMing giving Garland a makeover in a corner of the dining room and a potentially bad (though numbed by alcohol and marijuana) encounter with Kai.

Minor speed bumps in his ultimate mission.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Johnny reached the alcohol cabinet. He jerked it open, relieved it of a few choice bottles, and then began his trek back to the living room. Passed the foyer, where Max and Rick had disappeared, only to be replaced by a shirtless Takao talking rather animatedly to Queen. Passed a bathroom, where he could hear the dulcet tones of someone puking their guts out. How charming.

Once back in the living room, still as steamy and pulsing as it was as he left, Johnny dropped himself onto a couch and opened one of the bottles he'd gathered. Poured some into his glass and took a long sip. Surveyed the land: Giancarlo was there, but now with Brookyln, who look just as out of it as ever. Rei had disappeared- with who or why, he didn't know. Kai had his back pressed against the wall farthest from the booming speakers, Hiromi seated next to him. More meshing bodies and loud talking and laughter. Johnny gulped down another mouthful, because really.

What good is a party sober.


	8. Broadcasting

He was not that bad.

He frowned at his closet- sparse though it was. A few shirts, most short-sleeved or sleeveless, in various fabrics. Most leather and leather variants. Jackets and hoodies for colder weather, though Kai never really felt the cold any more, courtesy of Dranzer. To wrap it all up, a few pairs of pants, some wide-legged, some, well, leather. The most extensive thing in his wardrobe? Belt buckles. He had a particular penchant for belt buckles, intricate ones. He was proud of them, too.

But still.

Hands met hips and he took inventory of his wardrobe again. There was nothing wrong with his admittedly limited selection of clothes. He liked them, so that was good enough for him.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Confidence renewed, he turned around and headed back to the room he shared with a certain brunet, belt in hand. There was nothing wrong with the way he dressed. Wasn't any weirder than Kinomiya and his obsession with primary colours.

He nudged open the door to their room, giving Rei a brief grunt in greeting.

"What'cha up to?" the brunet asked, looking up from his book. Kai gave a noncomittal shrug.

"Getting dressed,"

"To go where?" The snort that accompanied that statement was poorly, _poorly_ hidden. He looked up from fastening his belt, brow marred by a frown. Rei was smiling at him, something wicked and playful sparkling in his eyes. Kai's frown deepened.

"Just... dressed. For every day?"

The brunet clapped a hand around his mouth, muffling his laughter, "Every day?"

"Yes?"

"Kai, you have on leather pants, a sleeveless, skin-tight shirt and combat boots,"

"Thank you for describing my outfit, Rei,"

Rei shook his head and went back to his book, still smiling. And didn't offer any further explanation. Kai stared at him, confusion still sitting heavily on his mind. What in the world could he be smirking about? He didn't appreciate this sort of game.

"_Rei_,"

"Yes, Kai?"

"What are you _smirking_ about?"

Gold eyes met his again and that infuriating smirk was still on his face. Kai scowled. Rei laughed.

He was really testing his nerves.

Rei rolled onto his side, book temporarily forgotten, snickers subsiding slowly. Kai tapped his foot, "I'm waiting, Kon,"

"You look like you're going to a gay bar," and then the giggles began anew. He froze. A... what? He looked down at his chosen outfit for the day. From his boots to his shirt. He... he did not. He looked like any other normal male on a normal day.

... Right?

Right. Of course he did.

His wardrobe was not that bad.


	9. Beads

i just want to thank all of you who read my lame drabbles & stuff, and who fave & follow this drabble book c:  
you guys are great ~~

have a disclaimer because i forgot it in chapter one

**Disclaimer**: i dont own beyblade or any of the characters in it, they belong to aoki takao.

* * *

"What the hell is Mardi Gras?"

Max grinned at his confused team mates and jingled the plastic beads in his hand, "It's a holiday here in New Orleans! It's a lot of fun, lots of floats and a big parade and you get beads, like these!" and he jingled them again, as if to punctuate his sentence. The blond had unceremoniously ambushed the other members of his team in the hallway of their hotel today, presenting them all with multicolored beaded necklaces, all in the name of "Mardi Gras".

Needless to say, they'd all been very confused.

"That's all very nice, Max, but... what to beads have to do with anything?" Chief fingered the strings of purple and green plastic beads around his neck apprehensively. Max continued to grin and gave the small, bespectacled boy a playful shove- as if that somehow explained everything. Chief just frowned.

"They throw the beads from the floats and stuff," he explained, after taking stock of his friends less than enlightened expressions, "Well, they throw all kinds of neat trinkets, but beads are some of them,"

Finally, the others nodded slowly in understanding- vague understanding. Encouraged by his friends somewhat delayed understanding, Max continued excitedly.

"Yeah, yeah! And sometimes, sometimes, girls will flash the people on the floats to... get the... best throws... Oops,"

Maybe he had gotten a little ahead of himself.

A quick glance around to room revealed cheeks had coloured bright pink in embarrassment and Max coughed, feeling his own cheeks heat up a little.

The was one person in the room, however, who was distinctly less embarrassed than the rest.

"I am _not_ flashing _anyone_- And Takao, get your mind out of the gutter!"


	10. Johnny, Not Jonathan

They were leaving again.

The redhead scowled viciously, half-empty bottle of whiskey teetering delicately between his fingers. From his spot at the top of the stairs, behind the intricate railing, he could see everything: the elaborate procession of servants carting suitcase and carry-on after suitcase and carry-on out the huge double doors in the foyer to the black limousine parked outside. His parents, each decked out in heavy, beautifully-crafted winter coats, smiling contently to themselves.

As if everything they were doing was okay.

He snarled and took another long swig of the whiskey in his hand. As if they didn't just come home from another whirlwind trip to God knows where.

As if he didn't even exist.

His mother, short and gray with age, but still as lively as ever, turned around to face Bonny, his nanny since he was born, with a smile.

"Well, we're all packed, Bonny. We'll see you again soon!"

His father turned as well, smile plastered on his face, "Yes, tell Jonathan we'll send him post cards!"

The redhead spat at the mention of his name. Always "Jonathan". Never Johnny. It was like he was a business transaction or a burden or something. He wasn't their son, he was a means for him and his wife to solidify the family tree.

Another swig.

Bonny gave a forced smile. Waved them off. As the heavy oak doors closed with a resolute _thud_, the aging nanny turned around and stared up at the second floor.

Right at him.

He didn't bother moving. Bonny would come to him; she always did. He leaned the near empty bottle of whiskey against the wall and huffed. It was all so stupid.

Bonny knelt down in front of him- as much as her joints would allow- and smiles. Reaches out and brushes his bangs out of his face.

"They do love you, you know,"

He scoffed and stood suddenly, "Like hell they do,"  
Bonny sighed and stood as well, giving him a gentle hug before taking her leave.

Leaving him standing alone in the huge, empty, lonely foyer of the chillingly devoid castle he was supposed to call home.

Same shit, different day.


	11. Desperate Measures

prompt fill for piecehomepeac on tumblr!

i like prompts guys give me prompts to fill

* * *

Maybe it was a little beyond his ken.

Of course it was, what was he thinking? He wasn't, and therein lied the problem. But then again, when he let his turbulent emotions get the better of him, he rarely thought clearly.

The boy sighed and retied the modest pouch and shoved it back into his bag. He hadn't anticipated this, and he was far enough from home that this would be a huge obstacle to overcome. The short of it all was: he needed money. And lodging, but money first.

And he had no idea how to go about fixing said problem.

He was a 13-year-old, far removed from his home and everything familiar, with no marketable skills to speak of and very little experience with the world outside his village and how it worked. Now here he was, in a large, bustling city with thousands of people who weren't concerned with the obstacles he'd admittedly brought upon himself.

He felt like a newborn kitten again.

Swallowing the lump of fear in his throat, he hoisted his bag higher up onto his shoulder. There had to be some form of manual labour he could do somewhere in this vast city. He was young and strong, he could handle manual labour. Mustering up whatever hope he could find, he started down the street, peering in the passing store fronts for "help wanted" signs. Minutes passed and that faint hope started to dwindle. This was impossible. He was in way over his head and he should just give up now before things got any wo-

_Help wanted_.

He let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. Thank every deity ever.

Hesitantly, he pushed open the glass door, bells jingling cheerily. Inside, a middle-aged age man was sweeping away, humming something the boy felt was vaguely familiar. When he heard the bells, he looked up from the floor.  
The boy bit his lip and straightened out his tunic. He probably looked like a stray.

Not the best way to ask for a job.

Gathering his courage, he stepped up to the man, still fiddling with his sash. With a respectful bow, he started to speak.

"Hi, I... my name is Rei. I saw the sign out front and I was, um, wondering what kind of openings you had...?"

The man blinked at him. Once. Twice. Three times. Rei felt his cheeks colour and his eyes found the floor.

"... How... how old are you?"

The boy looked back up, "Oh, um... I'm thirteen,"

"Where are you parents?"

"It's... a long story," Rei paused. There was something... soothing about the older male. Something that made him feel like everything wasn't so hopeless. He took another deep breath and told him the story- albeit leaving out choice parts like his village and such.

The man frowned. Studied him again. Under his gaze, Rei felt so small. Like he was a kid again, a runt running around with kids twice his size. The feeling didn't pass even when the man looked away from him, back towards the kitchen.

"Honey, do we still have that mattress in the spare room?"

Gold eyes widen in shock. He was... what?

"I'm... what are you..."

The older male turned back to him with a smile, "I can't just let you sleep on the street. We have a spare room upstairs, and you can work as a waiter here during the day- we'll pay you decently enough,"

_Thank all the deities_.

Rei couldn't believe his luck. Fear and nervousness was quickly replaced by gratitude, and he made no secret of it. The man- who'd introduced himself as Cheng- smiled and told him it was no trouble at all.

Maybe this wasn't beyond his ken after all.


	12. Cat vs Bird, vol 1

He was evil.

Absolute evil. Possibly Lucifer himself.

Doubly so because he knew_ exactly_ what he was doing.

... Could someone be double Lucifer? Whatever. For all intents and purposes, right now, he was Lucifer Times Two. Which mean that every urban myth and propaganda tool was wrong; Lucifer was not a red-skinned man with horns and a tail. He was a tall, tanned, dark-haired man hailing from China who was entirely too skilled at stealth and using things to his advantage.

He'd have to alert the media.

He wasn't sure where said "Lucifer" was at this point in time, but thank any deity willing to listen that he was far, far away, leaving the grey-haired male to bask in the temporary break from his torment. Who knew how long it'd last, though- once "Lucifer"'s boredom kicked back in, it was all over. And he was a _cat_ after all, he lived in a constant state of boredom. Once this lull in hell was over...

It would all begin again. This game of cat and mouse-_ cat and bird?_

All he really wanted was to finish his bo-

Crap.

He knew those sounds. Those familiar sounds of feet against wood floors, light, almost silent padding. Dammit. Not again. He averted his eyes, tried in vain to refocus on his book. Maintain his detached persona. He'd make it work, so help him.

"There you are,"

Damn it all to hell.

"Lucifer", in the flesh. He cursed mentally. Crap and a half.  
Said devil in disguise smiled warmly and slid behind the couch, arms finding their way around the sitting male's shoulders.

"What're you reading, Kai?"

That wasn't even said. It was _purred_. Right in his ear.  
Kai closed his book suddenly- so suddenly, it ended up being a slam. He didn't mean to do that. Stupid jumpy nerves. He cleared his throat loudly. Announced he was going to bed.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He couldn't see his face from where he was sitting, but by the sound of his voice, he could tell "Lucifer" was frowning. He tried to shrug nonchalantly.

"Tired,"

Another purr, and he could _feel_ lips against the shell of his ear and his face heat up. Okay, yeah, definitely time for bed. He grabbed the other male's arms and tried to untangle them from his neck. If he could just get to his bed, he could play dead and hopefully end this game of cat and... bird.

"I just wanted to cuddle..."

Still with the lips against his ear, and Kai felt like his face was on fire. Damn him and his strong grip. It felt like the more he struggled, the tighter "Lucifer's" grip got.  
He purred again and.. oh no.

_Definitely time for bed_.

Kai squawked, finally managing to free himself by way of leaping off the couch in surprise. "Lucifer" had taken it upon himself to trace the shell of his ear with his tongue and that was officially crossing into "taking it too far" territory.

The grey-haired male huffed, face still tomato red, and adjusted his shirt. He was going to bed now, book be damned. He was going to bed and going to pull the blankets over his head and try to forget about how flustered he was.

"Going to bed now," his voice was cracking. Lovely.

He was so over this.

"Lucifer" chuckled, "So soon? What about my cuddles?"

"Good_night_ Rei,"

Rei just laughed.


	13. Successor

prompt fill for **MisstiqueRose**! hope you like it ~~

* * *

If anyone asked him what he was doing, he would always tell them he was talent-scouting. Nothing more, nothing less.

And it was the truth. He had a knack for noticing 'blading talent. Whether it was in small children playing for fun in local parks or more serious (albeit less intense that the World Championships) minor tournaments in quaint cities, he could see it. He could see it in the way arm muscles flexed and tense in launching and release, in the way brows furrowed in concentration.

Most were duds, merely amateurs playing at a game they really didn't quite grasp. He often left parks and tournies disappointed, expecting more and always feeling ultimately unfulfilled.

Maybe his standards were set too high. Or maybe- maybe there was no real natural talent left.

Maybe he'd been spoiled.

He'd witnessed real power before. Raw, unbridled force and wild energy. A rare find, even rarer still was a person would could soundly and effectively wield such power. _That's_ what he was looking for. _That's_ what he hoped to see in the round faces of the children he watched battle.

So far, no one even came close.

And yet, he kept searching. Kept wishing, hoping, praying. There would be someone else, there had to be- but maybe talent like that only happened once every six millenias. Maybe the russet-haired teenage was special, unique. Maybe there would never be someone like him ever again, someone the older Kinomiya could mould and shape and bask in their power.

There had to be.

Set firm in his pseudo-optimism, he pressed on, search neverending. And whenever someone would gaze in curiosity at him lingering in hallways and against trees, he would merely shrug and say he was talent-scouting.


	14. Comfort

"ash write a ship that isnt kairei" ok ok fine i will gosh

i love max a lot fandom ignores him too much hes a gr8 character aight coo

* * *

There were only a few things he really hated in life. Cold hot chocolate, losing one of his favorite shirts and thunderstorms.

Not necessarily in that order.

Lightning tore through the sky again, white and angry, and it's brother, loud, aggressive thunder followed shortly after, disrupting the melodious sound of rainfall with its shout. The blond pulled the blankets over his head and let out a soft whine.

He really hated thunderstorms.

He shifted in his bed, trying - in vain - to get comfortable enough for sleep. Just as he was settling in (still cocooned in his blanket), lightning flashed again and thunder followed up with an impressive _boom_. Max wailed. Scrambled unceremoniously from his laying position and clutched the blanket with white knuckles. He was never going to get any sleep tonight. Never.

The blond rubbed his sleepy eyes with one hand, other still gripping the blanket like a lifeline and glanced around the room, occasional flashes of lightning illuminating the otherwise oppressive darkness. Another thunderclap sent shivers down his spine. He really hated sleeping alone.

Swinging is short legs over the side of the bed, he hopped down, still clutching the blanket in one hand. Once on the ground, he wrapped it around him like a cape and shuffled out of his room, still sniffling softly. The hallway was as deathly quiet as his room was, and he could hear the faint - or not so faint - sounds of Takao and Daichi snoring in another one of the rooms, disrupted only briefly by each new clap of thunder.

It wasn't long before he was in front of the door he was searching for. With a gentle nudge, it swung open and the blond shuffled over to the occupant's bed and hoisted himself onto it.

"Rei?"

A groan and a tanned arm reached out and groped blindly around for the source of the offending nose. Max grabbed his hand and gave it a light tug, hoping to stir the brunet from his slumber.

It worked - for a moment.

Max caught a glimpse of a sliver of gold before tired eyes squeezed shut again. "Mmm... Max...?"

The blond pouted, tugging the arm again and receiving a groan in return.

"What's up...?"

Thunder cracked again and Max allowed himself another distressed whine. Rei understood then and lifted one side of the blanket that was draped over him. Thank god.

The blond all but scrambled underneath the offered blanket, forgetting his own in the process, and curled up against the large, warm body now next to his. Laced their fingers together (and absentmindedly admired the contrast between Rei's deep tan and his own alabaster skin) and sighed contently. Rei shifted around, one arm wrapping itself around the little blond and his head coming to rest atop his.

"Get some sleep," the brunet murmured, eyes still shut. Max smiled and nodded, a yawn escaping him - a testament to his disturbed sleep schedule.

Lightning struck again and thunder chased after it, as loud and brash as ever, but from where Max was lying, cheek pressed against Rei's chest, it didn't seem so frightening anymore.


	15. Hickies

Rei had a weird thing with possession.

He liked to think it was because of Driger- after all, tigers were notoriously territorial- but as time passed and the brunet became more and more familiar with his psyche and different aspects of it, he was starting to believe it was less Driger's influence (though he believed fully that Driger amplified it) and more just an integral part of him. Maybe it was an ancestral thing, part of being neko-jin or something. Or maybe it was just... him. How he was.

Whatever it was, it grinned with a wicked sense of satisfaction whenever Kai's scarf would slip slightly and it caught a glimpse of purple bruises littering the pale skin on his neck.

Possession felt deliciously good.

* * *

updates for the holidays  
more kairei im sorry not really all that sorry

( x-posted to my dreamwidth )


	16. Lines

prompt fill! "lines" - given by zom.

im not dead yall

* * *

He was not very good at this sort of thing.

Takao let out a high-pitched whine; he hated waiting. The battery on his DS was dead, and Max had hijacked his headphones so he couldn't even listen to his music.

This sucked.

He shifted his weight from one foot to another, a sort of mock dance, and whined again. This sucked_ so _much.

"Takao, relax."

The brunet whirled around on his heels - almost effectively sending him onto the ground - and leered at the tall, similarly dark-haired male, "Relax? _Relax_? How can you say that, Rei?! We've been waiting for, like, hours!"

Rei smiled knowingly and patted the dragon's hat gently, "I know that, T. I've been standing here too, remember?" He dropped his hand from the dragon's head and shoved it back into the pocket of his BBA jacket. Takao scowled.

"This is so ridiculous!" he groaned and spun back to face front again, crossing his arms over his chest. He heard Rei chuckle from behind him - but he continued his tirade anyway.

"We're _celebrities_, dude! We should be treated like kings! I can't believe they're making us _wait _with the... the... common folk!"

The tiger chuckled again, "'Common folk', Takao?"

"Yes, Rei. _Common folk._" He could practically _hear _Rei shake his head.

"Just chill out, would you? We're boarding soon." Takao huffed again and tapped his foot. They better be boarding soon - or he was going to take out a complaint with the airline.. manager... whatever! He was complaining and that was that! He gave an exaggerated pout; he was going to plan out his complaint now. He could just see it: _we, the world famous atheletes the Bladebreakers, were forced to wait in line to board like commoners! This is unacceptable! Do you know who we a - -_

"_Now boarding, Flight 245 to the United States of America_."

Oh.

Well then.

Takao slung his backpack back over his shoulder with a smile. About time! He was totally over the whole "waiting in line" deal, anyway.

As he passed, Rei gave the brunet a playful nudge with his elbow and one of his trademarked "I told you so" winks. Takao rolled his eyes. Smug bastard.


End file.
